


Call it Fae-t

by Jackfruit



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Again, Alternate Universe - Fae, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Disturbing Themes, Fae & Fairies, Fae!Patton, I'll never learn how to do proper tags, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Making Out, Manipulation, Unhealthy Relationships, borderline NSFW, virgil is the only sane one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-08-21 17:18:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16580741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackfruit/pseuds/Jackfruit
Summary: Logan Sanders does not believe in the old tales of The Fae- nor of more modern tales of fairies that can grant wishes and give gifts. However, after being dragged into the forest by his friend Roman, he learns that they are very much real. And one seems keenly interested in Logan in particular.





	Call it Fae-t

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous_As_Myself](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous_As_Myself/gifts).



> This is a gift for my pal Break (aka Anonymous_As_Myself here on Ao3 aka my cowriter for Locked Heart). His birthday isn't until December but I'm impatient so here ya go kids.

Long ago, before the concrete of the city overtook the expanses of green that stretched over the surface of the earth- when the entirety of human civilization lived in scatterings of cottages- everyone feared them. The creatures with the glowing eyes and windchime laughs.  _The Fae_ ; they’d been known through fearful whispers and hushed warnings. Creatures of pure mischief- who would attack unprovoked and remain chaotic in nature no matter what time of day or night. Now, one may regard them as fairies, but with the change in name came much more positive associations, ones that may not be entirely deserved.

As humans adapted to the world, and as their technology grew, their fear of the unknown withered. Careful warnings and iron gates that safely enclosed towns that grew into cities warded off the creatures that once so frightened man. Longer names in multiple parts were added, with the middle part kept close to one’s chest. Should one need to travel to another city through those uncharted woods, they would do so through their automobiles with clippings from Rowan trees hanging from the rearview mirror and salt lining the carpeted floor. Yes, humans learned to shut out the creatures not of their own kind, not realizing the will-o’-the-wisps slowly began to flicker out as mythical folk lost battles to their own kind.

Logan had never believed in the stories still whispered amongst humans from time to time. Stories that ranged from the hopeful murmurs that fairies would grant your wildest fantasies if you pleased them, to tales that were much closer to the original mythos- tales where The Fae would whisk you away if you uttered your name in its entirety. Logan had no reason to believe those tales. The iron gates were simple enough to explain, as they were a practical way to keep out dangerous creatures like werewolves or lindworms.

The Rowan and salt? Traditional, yes, but he himself did not keep such things in his car, and he had never had an issue. He’d only bothered when heading out of the city to visit his family in the next town over, and that was more to ward off werewolves than anything. Honestly, people worried too much about fairies and not enough about werewolves. Though, maybe he was biased, as his mother would tell him horror stories about how her grandmother had been torn to shred by one of those beasts.

He tried telling this to Roman and Virgil, but neither of them would stray from their beliefs. Roman, with his dreamy sighs and fantastical tales of fairies’ sweet promises and gifts, and Virgil, with his wide-eyed terror of glinting teeth and twisted words. Logan would scoff as they argued, turning back to his novel or textbook to focus more on the written words and less on the spoken.

Lush leaves rustled excitedly as the temperature dropped with the sun as it fell from grace. Roman leaned against the bars with a jittery sort of excitement, while Virgil hesitated a few steps behind Logan, who stood between them. A safe distance from the gate, but still straying further from the safety of the city lights that were slowly coming on as the natural light of day faded.

“This is an  _awful_  idea,” Virgil quipped, zipping and unzipping his hoodie over and over.

“Seconded,” Logan commented, “though not because of fairies, I am more concerned about vampires or werewolves or trolls.”

“Aw, you two are no fun!” Roman scoffed, “Logan, your backpack is stuffed with sage and garlic, I think you’ll be safe.”

“Yes, but you won’t let us take Rowan or iron!” Virgil snapped, zipping up to his throat.

“Well duh,” Roman pulled out a key and twisted it into the gate lock. “You can’t meet fairies if you carry repellent and their greatest weakness.”

“Hypothetically, they would still approach us if we had iron, so long as we did not touch them with it,” Logan said, keeping watch to ensure no guards would arrive to ward them away from the manual gate. Roman was the only guard scheduled to watch that night, leading him to excitedly decide he could ‘prove’ that fairies were the soft, graceful creatures he believed. Logan and Virgil agreed to come along just to keep him alive. Virgil to protect him from the creatures he was seeking out so naively, and Logan to protect them both from the actual dangers that lurked betwixt the shadows that dappled the forest floor in thick darkness.

The iron gate creaked loudly as it opened. The sound of an ancient waking from its hundred year slumber. No one used the manual gate unless they had a death wish, as travel was much safer through the large tolled gates that cars used to enter and exit the city. Roman grinned and twirled the iron key on his finger before catching it and stepping out. Logan followed next, and he swore up and down that the second his foot touched the grass on the other side the wind picked up. Whether it was howling a warning or a welcome, he was unsure. Virgil shuffled out last, looking around nervously. He shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. Roman locked the gate before setting the key under a stone near the gate.

“There,” he said, satisfied. “Come my friends, adventure awaits!” He dove straight for the treeline, heeding not the giggling carried by the wind, nor the flash of honey eyes that flicked from Roman to Logan to Virgil before returning to settle on their target and vanishing entirely.

Virgil moved the stone and curled his white-knuckled fist around the iron key. Salvation for him in this world devoid of steel and concrete; a world not laced with iron and salt. He shoved his hand with the key into his hoodie pocket. ‘Not a word,’ he mouthed silently to Logan, who nodded. Even if he doubted in fairies existence (and even if they were real, there was no way they held as much sway over humans or reality as the stories told), he could sympathize with the extra precautions of his anxious companion. He was surprised he was even intent on coming, as fairies ( _“The Fae,” Virgil would correct with a twist of his iron ring, “they might find the new name disrespectful.”_ ) scared him more than any other thing in this universe. But Virgil insisted that they travel in as a group of three, as groups of three were a safeguard against malevolent charms.

The two men trekked after the boisterous guard, taking much more cautious steps as the darkness of the woods slowly enveloped them in an embrace. Virgil pulled out his flashlight and clicked it on, slicing through the hide of the night. The man flinched as the wind rustled the leaves with a delighted mimicry of a near-human laugh, and he pressed closer to Logan as they continued after the ominous snapping of twigs under Roman’s boots; Logan most certainly did not liken them to the sound of breaking bones.

As they plunged deeper and deeper, fog began to curl around their ankles and brush cooly against their skin. Roman’s excited steps slowed, and he drew back to the safety of their group. Virgil relaxed an infinitesimal amount as Logan and Roman allowed him to link their hands in his own, making them a definitive trio. This safety did not last long, however, as another strong breeze cut through the impossible thickness of the trees, carrying with it a soft, twinkling laugh. They froze, and Logan felt Virgil nearly crush his hand with the intensity of his grip.

“We should turn back,” Virgil’s voice was an octave too high and a heartbeat away from cracking entirely. Roman, on the other hand, was practically quivering with excitement as he pulled the hand holding Virgil’s right to his chest.

“Turn back?” his voice was reverent, “why would we turn back when we are so close?” Logan was sure that the way Roman cradled Virgil’s hand to his chest would normally make the young man flush, but due to his fear his face hadn’t even a drop of color. He looked like a ghost among the swirling silver fog.

“That is exactly why we should turn back,” Virgil looked torn between pulling his hand away and keeping their fingers twined. Logan rubbed a thumb along Virgil’s left hand- still clutching Logan as if he’d be snatched up if he let up his grip even a hair. “This is our final opportunity to have a guaranteed safe return home.”

“Nonsense,” Roman waved off his concerns with his free hand. “The fairies will protect us once we find them so long as we play our cards correctly. Now, come!” He tugged sharply on Virgil’s hand, causing Virgil to pull Logan along as well as they continued. Logan’s hand was growing uncomfortably numb and clammy as their sweaty palms were forced together by sheer force of terror.

“Virgil, I need to let go a moment,” Logan stated as he finally could stand it no more. Virgil’s gaze snapped to his as Logan yanked his hand away. He sighed in relief and rubbed feeling into his hand.

“Logan!” Virgil cried as Roman, seemingly unaware, continued to pull Virgil forward. A few steps further into the trees, and they were swallowed whole by the wilderness and the fog. Logan blinked as the sounds of his friends was seemingly cut off entirely the moment they left his sight, and he headed after the direction they disappeared.

He found nothing beyond the shivering branches and fog that slowly rolled in thicker and thicker, until all he could see in front of him were silhouettes. It felt vaguely like a he was drowning, or perhaps in a dream. Floating and swimming in the growing panic of not knowing where he was, or where his friends could possibly be.

“VIRGIL? ROMAN?” His echoing calls were consumed by the hungry fog, and he wandered aimlessly. He stumbled over roots and narrowly dodged branches to the face as he found an eerie sense of dread began to fuel his steps. As if he were being watched with the predatory gaze of a dragon. Considering where he was, that may not be completely unlikely. Logan turned to face behind himself, and upon seeing nothing he turned back. Now in front of him, came a light. At first glance, Logan felt a hopeful jump in his heart and made to cry out- assuming it was Virgil’s flashlight, which had been put away earlier in favor of linking together their three mortal souls.

However, his calls died upon his tongue as the fog itself seemed to bend and twist into the form of a glowing orb. That delicate giggling echoed across the forest, seemingly originating from the orb. Logan blinked and chanced a step back a moment. The thing made no further moves, simply hung in the fog.

“Hello?” Logan tried, hoping his voice did not shake as much in reality as it did in his mind. The orb let out a long, wistful sigh before giggling again and vanishing much further down the path. “W-wait!” Logan found himself calling, and then making chase after the creature. He was too wrapped up in the fact he did not want to be alone to recognize it- to realize that the lure of bony hands with too many fingers started with manipulating the strings on the dancing puppets of light.

Another laugh, the creature began to bob and twist lively. Logan found that as he followed it, he needn’t pay attention to his surroundings. Whatever the creature was, it was acting as his eyes, and Logan could not help but be grateful.

After what felt like an eternity and no time at all, the creature suddenly vanished from sight, leaving only a soft giggle in its wake. Logan stopped, realizing why it had gone immediately. In front of him, the fog seemed to part as the trees abruptly stopped to surround a large clearing. On one side of the clearing lay a large, glittering pool of water. The moon reflected off of its glassy surface in a perfect replication, undisturbed by even the gentle, comforting breeze. Next to the pond was a large, flat, smooth stone the color of polished silver that looked perfect for one to sit upon should they wish to dip their toes in the cool water. Across from that…was a ring of mushrooms. Bone white and blood red and ranging in size. The smallest of which were no bigger than a dime, while the largest could easily be the size of Logan’s fist.

Logan, was almost glad Roman and Virgil were not here with him at the current moment- as Roman would make a mad dash to stand inside the circle in hopes a fairy might grant him a wish, while Virgil would hold him back and screech about being forced to dance for eternity. It was such a vivid image in his mind, that he could almost hear their shouts in reality. He strained his ears a bit more, and their voices faded into the background of his mind again.

A bluebird swooped down from the trees and landed inside the circle. It hopped around in an odd sort of pattern, almost like a dance, and Logan found himself drawing closer so he could crouch down and watch the display. The hopping grew more intricate and near frantic, with the bird flapping up a few inches before spinning back down to the grass. The bird chirped wildly as it continued, almost like it was trying to sing along to an invisible tune. Logan felt hypnotized by the movements, watching with rapt attention until the little thing twirled thrice in a row and it collapsed in the center of the circle momentarily. Logan blinked in shock, but soon the bird was back up and hopping. It only took Logan a moment to realize however, that one of its legs was bleeding and twisted. He put a hand over his mouth and stared in horror as the bird began to flap more to keep its balance. He was certain that if the poor thing continued on like this, its heart would give out much like its leg had initially. He could only think of one solution to help stop the creature’s fate. He reached to pull it from the circle.

Cold hands curled around his wrist with too many fingers, causing Logan to look up. The man staring back at him was absolutely stunning. Eyes the color of honey, and freckles as golden as the sun spattered all across moon pale cheeks. He had a soft, rounded face haloed by feathery curls that were a sharp contrast to the pointed ends of his ears. The only thing off about his ethereal beauty was a grin that stretched just a bit too wide across his face… a grin that housed far too many sharp teeth. If Logan followed the length of his arm, he’d see that a rainbow of iridescent feathers appeared seared into the flesh of the back. Those same feathers merged down his sides and fanned out around the hips similar to a short skirt. He didn’t, however, as he felt himself caught in those perfect honey eyes.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he said, his voice the softness of dew and the lightness of day. “You wouldn’t want to meet the same fate.”

“And what might that be?” Logan asked, his voice on the edge of breathless. The too-wide grin stretched even wider, and his gaze flicked down. Logan’s eyes followed to where the bird was beginning to lose feathers. Its tiny chest could be seen moving- heaving- at that point, and at last the heartbeat could no longer sustain the wild movements. The bird collapsed once more; only this time it did not rise again.

“That,” the man said, releasing Logan’s wrists. Logan fell backwards, scooting away from the circle, and the stranger reached down to scoop up the limp body of the bird. He plucked a feather from the tail and gracefully stepped into the center despite his warning from moments before. On bare feet he carried himself over, leaning out and settling the deep blue feather behind Logan’s ear.

“There you are,” the stranger murmured, honey eyes swirling. “You might wish to look away.”

“And why is that?” Logan asked, as he was still enraptured by that gaze. The stranger laughed, all sweetness except for the flash of sharp teeth.

“Humans tend to find my eating habits…gruesome,” he said. It was only then that it really hit Logan that this ethereal being was not a human, nor was he an angel as his brain attempted to assure. He looked to the left, using a hand to shield his face as he heard another sweet laugh followed by the wet tear of flesh and a snapping sound eerily similar to when Roman crushed branches underfoot.

The soft touch of long, delicate fingers on the back of his hand caused him to look up. The man stared at him with pupils so wide, his eyes nearly looked black as he licked a fleck of red from the corner of his mouth. Once his pupils returned to their normality, he looked nothing but ethereal once more. Seven fingers curled around Logan’s hand, gently pulling him to his feet.

“Would you perhaps dance with me? It has been so long since I’ve had a human in my forest.”

“Is it your forest?” Logan found himself questioning aloud. The stranger giggled, hand not clutching his sliding down to tightly grip at his hip.

“Not technically. I am merely one of six fae who still live here in Helwood, and the other five are much stronger than I.” Logan felt a jolt of surprise and he nearly pulled away. Nearly.

“You are one of The Fae?” he asked. The stranger hummed and tried to coax him forward. Logan gave in a step, toes brushing against a couple toadstools.

“That I am,” he said. “Will that fact stop you from dancing with me?” Logan should have said yes, should have fled for the hills. But those eyes and that curl of his soft, plump lips drew him in despite the danger promised by Virgil’s harshly whispered tales and his own observations.

“It depends. Will I not suffer the same fate as the bluebird?” Logan asked. The soft curl of lips turned into a light smirk.

“The bird was overcome by too much magic due to the fact it entered the circle alone. So long as you hold onto me,” the fae leaned up, breath brushing the shell of Logan’s ear, causing the feather tucked behind his ear to quiver. “I will keep you safe.”

Logan ought to not trust the twisted words of a fae, but he was a weak man, and the creature was experienced and patient in its assurances.

“Very well…” Logan said, slowly stepping into the circle. Immediately, the wind picked up, carrying with it a song that stuck to the clearing. Haunting string instruments playing complex tunes of which Logan had never heard, yet felt achingly familiar. As if he had once heard them long, long ago.

The circle seemed to expand to accommodate the langer dancers, and the fae gently guided Logan into a waltz, matching their steps in time with the music.

“What is your name, by the way?” the fae asked.

“I could inquire the same of you,” Logan said quickly. As enraptured as he was, he was not a complete fool. The fae sighed.

“My name is as ancient as the stars and quite the mouthful to speak. I am referred to as Patton. I remember it better than my origin name at times.” Patton moved their steps from the edge of the circle closer to the center. “Now, what of your name? It is only polite to share,” there was a slight edge to his voice. A sort of threat laced in sugar that made Logan swallow thickly.

“Logan,” he said.

“Is that all?” Patton coaxed, moving the hand gripping his hip to rest against the small of his back. The touch distracted him momentarily- caused him to slip.

“Sanders. Logan Sanders,” he said. The hand returned to its perch on his hip,

“ _Logan Sanders_ ,” Patton’s voice was near worshipful. His pupils dilated as he met Logan’s gaze, but with a sudden blink, Patton’s smile twitched- became a little less genuine.

“Oh, that’s right. You humans have that third name now, don’t you?” he twirled Logan before he could reply, pulling them flush together when Logan regained his balance. His bare chest exhaled in time with Logan’s clothed one, and the fae stepped back again to carefully begin their waltz again. “May I ask what that is?”

“My middle name?” Logan asked, voice hushed.

“Yes.”

“No disrespect, but I would prefer not to.” Patton’s features grew dark, like the moon eclipsing his sunny visage. Though similar to an eclipse, the darkness did not last long and soon Patton’s sugary smile returned tenfold.

“I understand,” he practically purred, “I must admit, you are rather wise for a human. Most would be far more trusting.”

“I am afraid V- my friend has had a large impact on my view of you,” Logan said. Patton chuckled, his laugh seemingly echoing through Logan from where they were connected.

“The anxious one?” Patton tilted his head and slowed their dance further.

“Yes,” Surprise colored Logan’s voice, “You know of him?”

“I saw you all when you entered,” Patton sped up his steps again, forcing Logan to follow his lead. “He was much too fearful, though he would have been fun to play with,” Logan did not appreciate the razortooth grin offered to him after those words.

“So you targeted me intentionally?” Logan felt his heartbeat speed up, though not out of fear like he would expect. “Why not R- why not my other friend?” Patton hummed thoughtfully.

“Too easy, no fun. He’d do anything I asked simply because of what I am,” Patton’s voice was smooth, as if his words did not add to the slowly building dread in Logan’s stomach.

“Is there something you wanted, then? If one of my companions is too difficult, and the other too easy?” He swore he felt a shiver rush through him, and Patton licked his lips before he replied.

“Maybe. Or perhaps I simply wanted good company,” Patton moved the hand on Logan’s waist so he was now gripping him around the middle. “Though I must say, I am glad I got to you before the others.”

The world was a blur of color- deep blue violet and green and silver as Patton dipped Logan low to the ground. The music seemed to fade to the back of Logan’s mind as Patton’s face eclipsed the moon. The light caught on the edges of his copper curls and seemed to feather out like a halo that did not match the wild, wide grin and fire eyes.

“Such a pretty face is not worth the price their particular brand of play usually costs,” Patton cooed softly, trailing the back of the hand not supporting his body up across his cheek. It was icy against his burning skin, and he swallowed nervously as the fae leaned ever closer. The sun about to swallow the earth whole in a fiery blaze.

“LOGAN?” That was Virgil calling. Patton made no moves to release him, but he did not grow closer anymore either. Instead, he twisted his wrist and produced a feather the same color as the ones seared into his flesh.

“Take this,” he murmured, so close Logan could feel his breath. It smelled like nectar and the sweetest of flowers, yet with the hint of something sour and rancid.

“Why?” Logan found himself asking as he heard footsteps crash into the clearing and a sharp intake of breath.

“It’s a gift,” Patton’s lips scarcely moved, though Logan noticed his eyes flick up. “It’d be rude to refuse.”

“Oh, in that case,” Logan’s fingers touched the edges of the feather, but before he could make to curl his fist around it, a small streak of grey-brown flew through the air and smacked Patton in the side of the head. At first, Logan thought it was another bird, but that theory was quickly ruled out as Patton fell, writhing, to the forest floor. There was an inhuman shriek of pain, and only then did Logan see what had hit him. An iron key.

Logan barely had a second to reach down and grab it before there was a grip on his other hand. Patton looked up at him, his eyes the color of the blazing sun. He curled his lips back in a snarl, though it was not directed at Logan, but the person behind him that yanked Logan from the circle. He turned to see Virgil, his grip on Logan’s hand as white as his face. Virgil broke into a sprint, forcing Logan to follow. They ducked under twisting branches, and wove past vicious bushes with pointed thorns. They ran until the fog receded back to whence it came.

They did not stop until a splotch of red and white could be spotted amongst the deep greens of the forest. Virgil slowed, gasping wildly, and Logan realized that the splotch against the trees was none other than Roman.

“Virgil!” Roman called, “You found!- Virgil? Logan?” His brows furrowed in concern as Virgil wildly reached out his free hand. Roman held out his own own in offering, and Virgil clung to it like a lifeline- collapsing against the guard’s chest while still keeping his grip on Logan’s other hand. Virgil let out a hysterical laugh, and Roman immediately barred his free arm across the shaking man’s shoulders as an iron bar of protection.

“We are s-s-so getting out of here. R-right fucking now,” Virgil stammered, still shaking. Roman, for once, did not immediately pepper him with questions. Instead, the three kept their hands linked as they made their way out of the ever engulfing darkness of the forest into the brightness of the night lit by a trillion stars and a full moon. The iron gate ahead would be a comforting sight if Logan’s brain had fully caught up with him. Unfortunately, his mind was back in that heavenly clearing- still dancing in circles with the fae who’s very being radiated the warmth of life. He had been intoxicating- had enraptured Logan in his entirety. It was as if he had become drunk on the very presence of such a creature. Intelligence locked behind sweet words and a fairly innocent demeanor.

“Fuck,” Virgil was what finally brought Logan from his stupor. Roman was searching, slightly panicked, under the stone he had placed the gate key. Without it, they’d be unable to get in until morning- and at that point they’d be thoroughly searched and tested to assure they were really creatures of the mortal realm, and not witches or fairies taking the forms of their victims. “Fuck, I used the key to chase off the fae.”

Roman snapped to attention at that, eyes blowing wide as the full moon hanging low in the sky. “A fairy? You saw a fairy?!” He gripped Virgil’s shoulders, studying him with those wide eyes.

“Yeah, it was trying to kill Logan!” Virgil pulled back, like he himself was one of The Fae and Roman were made of pure, raw iron.

“Is that true?” Roman asked, turning to face Logan. Logan did not reply. He instead opened his hand to reveal the key there. Virgil’s shoulders slumped with his obvious relief, and he took the key to unlock the gate.

“Well?” Roman asked, catching Logan’s shoulder as he made his way back inside. Logan sighed.

“I don’t know, Roman. I don’t think he was,” Virgil stopped and slowly turned.

“He? You _talked_ to it?”

“I- yes,” Logan admitted. Virgil threw his hands up.

“I can’t! I can’t deal with this tonight- I’m going home!” Virgil stormed off, a swirling tornado of rage and shaking terror.

“Virgil! Wait up, you’re my ride!” Roman called. He turned to Logan, attempting to look stern, but coming off as giddy.

“You _will_  tell me everything tomorrow, alright?” Roman sprinted after Virgil, leaving Logan alone to heave the metal gate shut. The clanging sound echoed through the entire city and the forest beyond, rattling Logan’s skull. He sighed, resting his forehead against the beams before remembering something. He reached up behind his ear and removed the tail feather from the dead bird Patton had set there when they first met a few mere hours ago. Logan found himself staring at the deep blues as he walked home, missing the way the leaves rattled and the creature hiding among those twisting branches, grinned in a way just as crooked and whispered,

“Gotcha.”

-

Logan lay awake in bed, fingers brushing along the soft surface of the feather. Two days since his encounter with the fae in the woods, and the memories still stuck to the backs of his eyelids like honey- replaying every time he closed his eyes. The burning gaze, the cold touch, the cracking of tiny, fragile bones under sharp teeth, the windy laughter. He sighed deeply and closed his eyes, letting his arms drop down to his sides as he attempted to get rest. He had failed to sleep the night after the encounter, nor the night after that- and although he was exhausted, he was unable to sleep.

“ _Logan_.”

Logan’s eyes snapped open and he sat up, glancing around his room. Fantastic, had he finally gone mad?

“ _Logan Sanders~_ ”

“Who’s there?” Logan asked, sliding from the bed with his feet softly hitting the floor.

“ _It’s your peppy pal Patton!_ ” And there was that laugh, reverberating against his skull and echoing like bells across his apartment.

“Where are you? How did you get into the city?” Logan tried not to let his voice waver. There was a silence after that, in which all Logan could hear was the blood pounding in his ears.

“ _Come to the gate_ ,” it was the only thing said.

“Why?” Logan tried for more information, but none was given. Logan took a deep breath and shuddered. There was a high likelihood he was just going insane. Perhaps Virgil was correct in thinking The Fae were powerful and evil creatures. Perhaps Patton had cursed Logan’s mind to play tricks on him, make him hear things. Yet, he still found himself tying his shoes and pulling on his windbreaker.

The streets were still populated, even at three in the morning, but as soon as Logan turned off the main roads and onto the one that led to the manual gate, all of the noise faded away. All signs of life were a simple dot in the distance by the time he pulled the car over at the end of the gravel road. The sound of his door closing echoed through the darkness, and Logan swallowed nervously as he began to climb the crest of the hill towards the distant gate. He prayed whichever guard was on duty wouldn’t ask him what he was doing out so late.

“You came!” Logan heard him before he saw him, almost as if he were blending in with the shadows and moonlight themselves. He’d come as close to the fence as he dared, the feathers in his arms ruffling slightly with the biting breeze.

“It was real,” Logan noted, referring mostly to the voice that had echoed through his mind.

“Sure was!” Patton beamed, all razor teeth and bright eyes. “Now, would you care to let me in?” That was what sent off warning bells in Logan’s mind. He’d stepped almost entirely up to the fence, but at that he pulled back.

“The gate is supposed to keep The Fae out,” Logan said, narrowing his eyes. Patton sighed dramatically and eyed the gate.

“I know that, but I really want to spend more time with you,” his lip jutted out in a little pout, and he folded feathered arms across his bare chest.

“I can come back out then,” Logan said simply, stepping close again and curling his fingers around the iron bars. Patton scowled.

“But I want to go _in there_ ,” he gestured at the city beyond Logan, a distant world to the fae and his moonlight skin and sunshine eyes.

“It- it’s not safe,” Logan swallowed nervously. He was not entirely sure whether he meant for himself or for Patton. Golden eyes rolled in exasperation.

“Pretty please, Logan?” Patton batted his lashes and smiled sweetly, lightly brushing the tips of his fingers along Logan’s knuckles. Logan pulled his hand back, and Patton did the same.

“I- I don’t have the key,” Patton’s smile slid off his face into something much darker.

“You’ll figure it out, you’re a smart man.” Patton’s voice was low, “if you value your sleep, though, I recommend you let me in.” Logan blinked in surprise and took another step back, letting nothing but eerie silence surround them. Not even crickets dared to breathe, much less play their nightly songs.

“What?” Logan’s voice was scarcely a whisper, he wouldn’t be surprised if Patton saw the question more than heard it.

“You took something from me,” Patton noted gleefully, and Logan’s hand automatically shot into his pocket to brush his fingers against the feather he’d set there. “So now you owe me.”

“But- but you gave it to me,” Logan protested. Patton shook his head.

“I offered to give you this one,” with the flick of his hand, Patton was holding an iridescent feather between his fingers, “but not that one. Just because I tucked it behind your ear does not mean I gifted it to you.”

“Then what if I return it?” Logan asked, reaching the feather out between the bars. Patton laughed and brushed it with his own feather, then tucked that one into his hand next to the blue one.

“No can do, kiddo,”  Patton purred, “trying to give back a gift? Very rude. Until I feel you have sufficiently paid, then you will be able to sleep again.” Logan curled his hands into fists, destroying the feathers he held.

“Fine then,” he seethed. He felt around in his pockets, finding a paperclip and unwinding it. “Opening the gate will allow me to sleep again?” Logan asked cautiously as he worked the wire into the rusted lock. Patton smiled wolfishly.

“Yes, I promise you will be able to rest after this.” Logan nodded and finished the task The lock was not terribly complex, as it was more to keep creatures out then lock humans in. The old gate creaked open, and Logan stood back as Patton slowly stepped across the barrier. Logan closed the gate behind him, and Patton’s grin grew tenfold- straining the corners of his face with how wide a large his smile spread. He slid his hands across Logan’s own, uncurling their fisted appearance. He squeezed the hand with the rumpled feathers in it, before pulling it back.

He held the now fixed feathers in front of Logan’s face. They hung from a delicate chain of woven silver vines. Patton hummed and set it around Logan’s neck, trailing his fingertips down the feathers, then down Logan’s chest towards his waistline.

“Thank you, Logan,” Patton looked up at him through long, dark lashes. Then he was shooting up, moving forward, and worlds collided. Fae and human, earth and sun. Logan froze, unable to process what exactly was happening until feather soft lips moved against his own and needle teeth bit down on his lower lip. Logan’s eyes fluttered shut and he let out a soft groan, but as soon as it had begun, the kiss ended as Patton pulled away. Logan opened his eyes, seeing nothing but the forest ahead through through the bars of the gate and the green grass whispering under his shoes.

He lifted his fingers to touch his lips, pulling them away to see red beads of blood that had smeared there shining in the low light of the moon. The only evidence Patton had even kissed him at all. He let out a shaky, breathy laugh.

“Virgil is gonna kill me…”

-

“I’m gonna  _kill_  you!” Virgil snarled into the speaker. Logan held it away from his eat momentarily while the man’s voice crescendoed into something fierce. “YOU LET ONE OF THEM _INTO THE CITY?!_ ” The voice grew quieter, and Logan lifted the phone back up to his ear and Virgil grumbled. Logan could hear clanging and clattering as the man probably was trying to decide which protective measures to take. All of them, he’d probably say if Logan knew him- which he did.

“Okay… _why_  did you let one into the city?” Virgil asked, borderline hysterical Logan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, hooking his fingers under the silver vines that made up the chain of his necklace.

“He told me I owed him…” Logan muttered. A pause- a ticking time bomb before an explosion.

“YOU ACCEPTED A FUCKING GIFT FROM A FAE?!”

“No!” Logan argued, “He set this feather behind my ear before we danced and I didn’t realize I took it until it was too late.”

“My God, Logan, you fucking _dumbass_  did you and Roman switch brains?!” Virgil banged something against a counter and Logan heard the ripping of paper. “You need to be cautious around The Fae, they’re sneaky bastards.”

“Ah…so would it bother you if I mentioned he kissed me?”

Another pause. Then, Virgil hung up. Logan held the phone to his ear a moment longer despite this before he sighed and set it down gently. He fixed the crooked papers and books on his desk then turned in his chair to regard the mirror version of himself. He tugged at the necklace Patton had slipped around his neck, but as he tried to lift it over his head, the vines twisted out and hooked onto his fingers, trapping him.

“Do you not like it?” Logan looked up to see Patton sitting cross-legged on his desk. His feathers were gone, and in their place were very human looking clothes. A blue polo and khakis, with a grey cardigan secured around his shoulders and glasses perched on his nose. He looked like a regular human, if not for his golden golden freckles and needle sharp teeth.

“I do, I simply wanted to remove it momentarily. Where did you get those clothes, and how did you get into my room?”

“Well, only I can take it off- I put a protective charm on it in case one of the other fae from Helwood decide to touch my favorite human,” Patton smiled that too-wide smile, leaning forward and bracing his hands on Logan’s shoulders.

“You didn’t answer my other q-questions,” Logan could not help the stammer in his voice as Patton slid into his lap and slid his hands from Logan’s shoulders to loop his arms around his neck.

“Oh, right,” Patton rolled his eyes. “I can find you anywhere because I had a taste of your blood. Blood magic is really somethin, huh?” He giggled and Logan touched his own lips at the memory. “As for the clothes? Well, the man who previously owned them won’t be using them anymore,” Patton’s honey eyes met Logan’s and he licked his lips. Logan swallowed, not sure he wanted to ask what the hell that meant or not, when his phone began to buzz. He broke his staring contest with Patton to glance at the caller ID. Virgil.

Patton’s gaze slid to the phone as Logan reached out to grab it, but the fae set his hand atop the human’s. Their eyes met again, and the phone continued to buzz before it finally went still.

“Good boy,” Patton said, cupping Logan’s face in his hands with a smile. He brushed his thumb just under Logan’s left eye and leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together. “Will you show me around? I feel…terribly lost,” his whisper brushed Logan’s lips.

“I- I suppose,” Logan murmured. Patton smirked, pulling back and sliding his hands down to Logan’s hips.

“Are you sure I’m not disturbing any plans?” Patton asked almost innocently, though there was a hint of something near mocking.

“I do not believe so,” Logan said cautiously. Patton beamed at him and took his hands- squeezing them  _hard_  before letting go and sliding off of Logan’s lap.

“Great! I’ll be in your car,” he wiggled his fingers in a childish wave and vanished from sight as Logan blinked. The man sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaling deeply. He was quite conflicted about this situation. On one hand, Patton was obviously dangerous, manipulative, and possibly possessive. Yet there was a charm to him that Logan couldn’t shake- he was like an itch that Logan couldn’t scratch. His burning eyes searing into his mind, and his laugh like a thousand delicate bells echoing in his ears.

Logan decided he really had no choice but to comply, as apparently Patton could locate him and appear in his personal space due to a blood bond. So he grabbed his keys and slid his feet into his shoes before padding out the door and heading over to his car. Patton was lounging upside down in the passenger seat, but upon seeing Logan he twisted ominously until he was sitting upright. His eyes followed Logan as he opened the driver door and pulled it shut. He inserted the key and twisted, bringing the car to life with a soft rumble. Patton continued to stare.

“Are you going to continue…that?” Logan asked, glancing away from the road momentarily to raise an eyebrow at him. Patton shrugged and turned to gaze out the window.

“You’re prettier than the city,” it was stated calmly, like a fact more than an opinion. “The city is all greys and browns and yellows- disgusting. But you,” he tilted his head thoughtfully and looked at Logan again, “you’re the color of nature. Pink and white and black and blue and brown. Sometimes you’re even red- I think that’s my favorite.” Logan blinked and felt his face flush. Patton was a grinning wolf in the corner of his eye, and he felt seven fingers settle on his thigh. His gaze flicked down momentarily then returned to the road.

“There’s the library,” Logan said, remembering why they were driving in the first place, Patton averted his gaze from Logan to the large building that loomed above them. “That’s where I work.”

“It’s prettier than the other buildings at least,” Patton commented. Indeed, it had an ancient, rustic appearance. Multitudes of windows displayed glimpses the thousands of books inside, and Logan longed to stop and head inside so he could nestle in and read for hours, but he had to finish showing Patton around first.

So they continued to drive. Logan would point out important landmarks or buildings, and Patton would nod or comment on them. His opinions seemed to range from disgust to utter, devious delight. One such example of the latter being a rather large cemetery, to which Patton delightfully acknowledged with,

“Humans really are so fragile, yes. I find it odd you chose to let yourselves rot underground when plenty of us would delight in a free meal.” Logan’s hands gripped the steering wheel just a bit tighter at that.

Their tour ended rather abruptly when Roman ran in front of the car.

Logan slammed the brakes so hard, he swore they’d snap. Patton, who had not been wearing a seatbelt, somehow remained perfectly upright. Logan, on the other hand, jerked forward. Not everyone could so easily defy Newton’s third law of physics the way Patton could, unfortunately.

Logan rolled down the window and stuck his head out, his glare hot enough to fry the perfectly styled hair from Roman’s head. Roman did not seem to process this fact, as he gripped the bottom of Logan’s open window.

“LOGAN! Just the man I was hoping to catch!” Roman declared. Logan blinked in slow disbelief.

“Roman,” he spoke as if regarding a child, “What- in the name of everything holy- made you decide that jumping in front of a  _moving vehicle_ , was a wise decision?!” Logan asked.

“Eh, I knew you’d stop,” Roman waved off his near death. “I wanted to plan another excursion into the woods.”

“What?” Logan asked, “Did Virgil agree to traverse there once more?”

“Well I haven’t _asked_  him yet,” Roman said innocently. “But if you agree, we can team up on him and convince him! Whaddya say?” Logan opened his mouth to protest, but a giggle interrupted him. He leaned over Logan, balancing his knees in his lap and propping his elbows up on the open window. Logan was glad no one else was driving down the road at the time, because he didn’t think he’d be able to pull over in this situation.

“If Virgil won’t come along, I always could,” Patton said softly.

“Ah, and who might you be, fairest of them all?” Roman asked, taking one of Patton’s hands and kissing his knuckles. Logan wondered how he missed the extra fingers and the razor-edged smile.

“I’m Patton,” he fluttered his lashes and bit his lip at Roman’s “charming” gesture. “Logan’s friend.”

“Logan, you have friends other than Virgil and myself?” Roman gasped in faux shock. Patton giggled again, rearranging their hands so that Patton was squeezing both of Roman’s hands in his own.

It was then that a car finally rounded the corner and halted behind them. It sat still for a solid half second before it began to honk loudly, and a woman poked her head out the window and started to scream and swear at them. Patton’s head turned at an almost unnatural angle to regard her before he gently slid from Logan’s lap back into the passenger seat. Logan let out a small sigh- though out of relief or disappointment, he was unsure.

The woman was still honking and swearing at them, so Logan rolled his eyes and told Roman, “Get in the car.” He did, and after he was strapped in Logan continued to drive. The woman began to move again, riding their tail obnoxiously. Logan finally had enough and hit his turn signal, heading down the next street. The woman continued forward, much to Logan’s relief. Though, as he continued to drive, there was a loud screech behind him and a shrill, loud, scream.

Logan slammed on the brakes and looked over his shoulder, but Patton grabbed him roughly by the chin and turned his attention to his eyes instead. The pupils were wide, near swallowing the sun of his irises.

“She was a meanie,” he said solemnly. Logan shivered and turned his attention back to the road. He considered going to check, to confirm or deny his suspicions, but he decided Schrödinger was onto something and kept driving.

“What was that?” Roman asked. Logan assumed he was referring to the screaming crash, but he could see through the rearview mirror Roman was wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Not the proper response to possibly hearing a horrible death, so Logan asked,

“What was what?” Roman smirked and looked between Logan and Patton. It took another few seconds, but Logan finally caught on he was referring to Patton gripping his chin and whispering lowly to him. He supposed that could look rather…suggestive, without context.

“Patton was just trying to calm me down after hearing what could be perceived as an accident,” Logan said, trying to ignore the way Patton’s eyes bore into his skull.

“I want to go to the library,” Patton informed them suddenly, distracting Roman as he opened his mouth to speak. Both men looked at the fae curiously, before Logan altered their course without question. Roman, however, hadn’t enough experience with Patton to quite know when to keep his mouth shut.

“Why do you want to go there?” Roman laughed, “it’s rather dull!”

“It’s pretty,” Patton said simply. Roman seemed not to have a witty response for that one, so he shrugged and let his head rest against the glass of the window.

They arrived at the library in good time. Roman got out and stretched, his arms twisting above his head like branches of a great oak. Patton giggled excitedly and launched out the door straight at Roman. Logan’s heart stopped for a moment before Roman’s arms curled under the fae and the pair twirled around together. A dust devil of giggling and grins. Logan relaxed, glad Patton hadn’t hit the ground…glad the intention of Patton leaping had been innocent.

Roman set Patton back on his feet, frowning as he finally noticed his barefoot nature. Patton ignored the puzzled gaze in favor of gripping one of Logan’s hands in his own and leading him to the door. He subtly pointed at the rowan trimming that spun in slow semicircles from an invisible thread. Logan not-so-subtly yanked it off and chucked it into the bushes so Patton could properly step inside. Patton kissed him on the cheek and strolled past, causing Logan’s face to heat up. The scarlet hue only increased as Roman clapped a hand on his shoulder and winked.

“So, when did you two-”

“We aren’t a couple,” Logan quickly reassured. Roman gave him a look that could only be described as  _‘uh huh, sure.’_ Logan scowled and followed Patton into the building, ignoring Roman’s snickering.

The smell of worn paper and old ink hit Logan’s nose. It was a familiar, comforting smell. Much as Logan enjoyed having days off, he loved his job and would not trade it for the world. He didn’t see Patton at first, but after peaking around a few shelves he spotted him stopped in front of a far wall, standing in front of the mural.

The mural was a delicate, beautiful painting- done by Virgil’s mother, actually. The library had commissioned her years ago to pick a legend about The Fae and paint it on the plain, white wall that was settled in a corner of the first floor. Patton traced his bony fingers along to arch of the angel’s back. “What’s this?” His voice was so soft, so honest and curious.

“One of the origin stories for…ahem…for  _The Fae_ ,” Patton turned to him, and Logan felt the need to elaborate. He turned back to the mural. An angel falling from the brightness of heaven into the dark void below. Its burning wings hid its expression, but falling up among the scorching feathers were sparkling tears. Logan’s eyes flicked up, where tears twisted into much more humanoid forms.

“Some humans believe that when God cast Their angels from heaven for their sins against Them, the tears the falling angels shed turned into The Fae. Spirits created from pure regret and sin.”

Patton did not reply right away, simply brushed his fingers up. When he finally did speak, he said, “I don’t know where we came from,” Patton hummed thoughtfully. “Unlike humans, we find the need to seek out answers to every mystery life has to offer pointless.” He turned to Logan, tilting his head and causing his copper curls to flop along in an almost graceful fashion. “Sometimes, things just are.”

Logan wanted to reply, but the words were stolen from him by Virgil appearing from the shadows of a bookshelf, Roman in tow. Roman looked like he was about to burst from excitement, while Virgil looked paler than he normally did. He thrust his fist in front of him, displaying the iron ring there.

“Logan you’re still  _talking_ to it?” Virgil asked, voice a shrill whisper. They were still in a library after all.

“Patton’s a fairy?” Roman’s voice was a little louder than appropriate, considering the topic and the location. Patton giggled his bell-like laugh.

“Careful, Ro, I don’t think my friends would appreciate such a casual term,” Patton cooed, eyes alight with fire. Virgil backed up into Roman’s chest, apparently feeling the scorching heat. He threw his arm out, as if he could shield Roman from the danger. Patton grinned sharply and quickly stepped up to Virgil’s open arms. He opened his own arms and hugged Virgil tightly around the middle, causing the poor man to freeze- mouth hanging open.

Patton pulled away and retreated to Logan, taking his hand. “Come on, Lolo, why not show me around?” Logan looked at Virgil and Roman helplessly and shrugged at Virgil’s horrified, and Roman’s irritatingly suggestive, expressions.

“Very well, Patton. This way.”

-

Despite much hesitation on Virgil’s part, Logan’s two friends eventually joined their tour. Roman quietly asked Patton about wishes and dreams, while Virgil coldly accused him of trickery and mischief. To Roman, Patton kept his answers vague. “I can grant most wishes, though only for a fair price, I can’t make your dreams come true in reality, but human minds are quite easy to manipulate- I could make you think you’re living your dream should you wish. To Virgil, he was even more so. “I wouldn’t lie,” he’s simply state, “I’m not intending any of you three harm.”

What was even more worrying, however, was Patton’s insistence for each of them to grant him their full names- particularly Logan. Virgil was obviously against it, but not even Roman wanted to reveal his middle name, and he simply bit his lip in reply to Patton’s insistence.

At the end of the tour, Virgil insisted on taking Roman home so he wouldn’t dance off into the woods to find his own “fairy” to befriend, leaving Logan and Patton to get into the car alone. They drove in relative silence at first, heading back to Logan’s home. The only sound passed between them were Logan’s breaths and the occasional steady clicking of the turn signal.

“What happened to them?” Logan finally asked. Patton moved his forehead from where it was pressed against the window.

“Hm?”

“You said there were only five fae, excluding yourself, in that forest-”

“Helwood,” Patton said softly. “I know you humans no longer keep track of the names, but that forest is called Helwood. Respect her with her name, and so she will respect you in return.”

“Oh, right,” Logan coughed into a loose fist. “So…I always heard the f- Helwood- had hundreds of Fae. It was the main reason I doubted your existence at first. After all, if there were so many then why had no human found any yet- or vice versa?”

“Well,” Patton’s voice was still quiet, almost sad if Logan thought Patton was capable of experiencing such a thing (which was doubtful), “After humans first built the iron fences, we found ourselves with little to no entertainment. Even the humans who remained out in the country had upped their defenses to the point we couldn’t mess with them.”

Patton looked out the windshield, eyes glazed with memories. Logan parked the car as they arrived, but did not make to get out. Patton made no such moves either, he simply kept speaking.

“So we decided, if we couldn’t play with humans…guess we’d play with our own kind,” a smile curled onto Patton’s lips. “The only thing that can kill a fae other than iron is our own kind.” Logan’s stomach dropped, and Patton turned to face him. His eyes were near black again, and he slowly scooted closer.

“I mentioned the other five of Helwood are much stronger than I- which is true. The only reason I escaped their games was because I’ve managed to stay on their good side. Most of the other fae weren’t so lucky. They couldn’t escape them,” a grin with sharp, sharp teeth, “and they couldn’t escape me.”

Logan leaned away as Patton leaned forward. He grabbed Logan’s hand and held it to his chest, disregarding the fact Logan tried to tug it away. “Humans are more fun, though. And you’re so, so much prettier. The fae are darkness and gold, nothing but darkness and gold,” he scowled and squeezed Logan’s hand, expression growing fond.

“But you…you’re pink and white and black and blue and brown,” he brought Logan’s hand up to his lips and lightly nipped his palm, causing blood to bead at the surface. “Sometimes you’re even red…I’ll miss you being red.” He kissed the mark he’d bitten, licking up the beads of blood. Logan couldn’t help but shiver. That was…far more attractive than it really should be.

“What do you mean…you’ll miss me b-” Patton’s lips were on his, pressing hard, while those bony fingers twisted at Logan’s hair. Logan’s brain short-circuited.

“Thanks for showing me around, Lo,” Patton said as he pulled their lips apart. Logan nodded, dazed, and watched as Patton vanished from view as soon as he blinked, leaving his question unanswered.

-

Trees rustled with whispers of hidden creatures, causing Logan’s eyes to crack open. He blinked a few times and sat up, looking at the moon shining full down into the clearing. The same clearing Logan first met Patton a few months ago. Despite the fact the chill of Autumn was coming in slow and steady, seeping into the bones of those within the city limits- the trees around the clearing were still lush and full. The grass was still sparkling emerald, and the pool was free of any ice or frost.

“Logan,” Logan turned to Patton, sitting on the rock next to the water. He was wearing his glasses and his cardigan draped over his shoulders, but his shirt was replaced with the feathers on the backs of his arms and sides, and his pants with the feather skirt that fanned out from his hips. Logan tried very hard to keep his eyes up, but after dealing with the fae popping in and out of his life on a near daily basis and taunting him with quick kisses or intimate caresses, it was difficult to say the least.

“How did we get here?” Logan asked. Patton sighed, sounding near weary.

“It’s not real, simply a dream,” Patton said, swinging his legs. “So long as I touch you while you sleep, I’m able to twist your dreaming thoughts.” Logan did not particularly like the sound of that, but he assumed the fae had a reason to bring him here.

He did. Patton stood and waved his hand, the clearing sliding away as if the world were on fast forward and they were walking deeper into Helwood. The forest’s leaves returned to the browns and golden-oranges of fall, but then quite suddenly jolted back into greens deep, deep, deep inside the forest’s embrace.

Patton waved his hand again, ending the quickness of the scenes changing. Patton took Logan’s hands and slowly walked backwards, guiding Logan easily through the green and brown of the forest.

“Have you ever heard of the legend of the golden apple?” Patton asked. Logan blinked, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Yes. It’s of Greek origin, correct? Believed that if you eat one you’ll be granted eternal life,” Logan said. Patton beamed.

“Yuppers! And remember how I told you I’m on good terms with the five other fae of Helwood?”

“…Yes?”

“Well,” Patton said, “one of them happens to have a garden,” he pushed aside the leaves to reveal it, knocking Logan’s breath away. Thousands of wildflowers, twisting up among one another to compete for the sweetness of sunlight that provided them light. Trees taller than the tallest of the buildings in Logan’s city swayed in the breeze, full of enough fruit to feed hundreds of families. A natural path bordered by mushrooms branched out throughout the wildness of it all, the only order among the chaos.

“This way,” Patton had released Logan’s hands momentarily, and this time took only one to guide him forward. Logan had no choice but to follow. Logan dodged around a lizard that darted in the path- honestly, was that necessary in a dream?

“There,” Patton pointed towards one of the shorter trees. It looked like a normal apple tree, except for the fact that hanging heavy from its branches were rather large apples that shone pure gold in the moonlight. Logan stopped.

“Impossible,” he whispered as Patton let go of his hand and reached up on his toes, picking one of the precious fruits.

“No,” Patton said, setting the apple in Logan’s hands and sliding his own hands beneath them as extra support. The fruit felt heavy in his grasp, despite it apparently being only part of a dream. Patton pushed his hands with the apple up to Logan’s lips.

“You can’t eat it now,” Patton murmured, “it’s not real. But I can get you a real one…all I ask is for you to come with me.”

Logan froze, lips moving against the skin of the apple as he asked, “What?”

“Come with me. Live forever with me in Helwood,” Patton said. Logan released the apple an took a step back, shaking his head.

“I- I can’t…Patton,” Patton’s expression turned dark and he gripped the apple in both hands.

“Why not?”

“I just my- my home…my job…my friends? I can’t leave them!” Patton stepped forward, Logan stepped back.

“You won’t? Not even for me? Not even for the chance to live forever?” The apple broke, turning to dripping black ooze in Patton’s clenched fists. The moon vanished behind dark clouds and Patton’s pupils swallowed his eyes entirely.

“I…it’s not that I don’t want to,” was that a lie? “It’s just I can’t.”

“ _LIAR_!” Patton’s voice echoed, and the dream began to crumble at the seams, pieces of the sky rained down into Logan’s hair, and the ground shook with Patton’s anger. Logan took another step back, and Patton lunged forward, lips peeled back in a snarl that revealed sharp, sharp teeth.

Unsure of what else to do, Logan ran. He ran despite the fact the world around him was crumbling- he ran until the ground gave out entirely and Logan was falling falling _falling._  Away from the light of the dream into the dark void below. He was burning up and crying, watching his tears rush up away from his face.

Logan sat up with a gasp, clutching at his chest. It  _burned_ , and when Logan lifted his shirt he could see angry pink lines scraped down it. Apparently, real Patton had taken out his frustrations on real Logan before he’d left. Logan flopped back down in bed, shaking. He’d spent so much time with Patton, he’d forgotten what he was. He’d forgotten what The Fae were capable of.

-

Logan did not see Patton the next day, nor the day after. However, three days after the dream took place, there was a feeble knock on the door. Logan had the day off, and had been reading on the couch when he heard it. He assumed it was Virgil, as it wasn’t dramatic enough to be Roman, and he opened the door with a witty comment already on his tongue. To his surprise…it was _Patton_  who stood there. The fae’s copper curls looked slightly dull, and his honey eyes had an odd glassiness to them, causing Logan to grow concerned despite himself.

“Patton, are you alright?” Logan asked, setting his hands on the fae’s shoulders. Patton stepped in, Logan stepped back- though his hands stayed firmly on his shoulders. Patton blinked twice, slowly. His head tipped up to meet Logan’s face.

“I’m dying,” Patton said. It wasn’t spoken the way Virgil would, full of sarcasm and spite- or Roman, with his over-dramatic flair. It was soft, serious, and caused Logan to drop his hands and take another step back.

“What?”

“I’m dying, Logan.” Patton repeated, running bony hands through dull curls. “Helwood is calling to me, begging me to come home. All this iron and salt surrounding me and flaking into the air…it’s killing me.”

“T-then why are you still here?” Logan asked, throwing his arms up. “Return to Helwood. If you’re getting sick here, then why do you stay?” Patton caught his wrists, some of the glassiness fading.

“I don’t want to leave you,” he said earnestly. Logan’s breath caught, and his heartbeat picked up slightly. Logan bit his lip and sighed.

“I don’t want you to die because of me.”

“Then come back with me,” Patton said, voice soft- pleading. Logan looked away from his eyes- so intense despite their glassiness. He twirled the feathers from his necklace around a finger and shook his head.

“I can’t…you know I can’t.” Patton scowled momentarily, but it smoothed out.

“Then allow me one more day to spend with you?” Patton asked. Logan paused, considering it. He looked at Patton’s dim expression and dull curls.

“Very well…but is there any way to temporarily heal your ailments until then? I don’t want you to walk about miserable all day.” Patton looked thoughtful, his brow furrowing a moment.

“I’d need something natural, preferably from Helwood herself,” he said. Logan frowned and looked at the feather necklace he was still fiddling with.

“What about this?” He asked. Patton looked at him thoughtfully, then slowly slid his fingers under the silver vines that twisted together to make the necklace that the feathers were attached to. Logan bowed his head, and Patton slid the necklace off. It was the first time since he’d first met Patton that Logan hadn’t had it around his neck, and he felt almost naked without its delicate presence around his throat.

Patton set the necklace around his own neck and inhaled deeply, the shine coming back to his curls and the the fire returning to his eyes. He rolled his shoulders and grinned at Logan, lunging forward and draping his arms over Logan’s shoulders.

“Thank you Lolo,” he purred, cupping Logan’s cheek. “I’ll return these to you before I go home.” Logan was too distracted to really process the words, so he just nodded. Patton smiled and stole a kiss from Logan’s lips before separating.

“So…” Logan said, “any ideas on how to spend your last day in the city?”

Which was how Logan found himself dragged all over the city by Patton. From the library, where Logan showed him all his favorite novels and Patton ran his fingers down the pages and sniffed at the ancient glue, to a store Logan had never actually been before, where he bought Patton a cat hoodie which replaced his cardigan quickly. The old piece of clothing had been discarded quickly in the street carelessly, and Logan may have subtly scooped it up and tossed it in the trunk of his car.

They watched the sunlight reflect off the windows of tall buildings, and Logan had Patton try ice cream. He enjoyed it an…alarming amount, actually, and watched as Patton ate three scoops of ice cream at once without so much as flinching. (“I like it. It’s cold. Most of my meals are warm or simply growing cold, not cold intentionally,” he said as he licked his lips in a way Logan was not at all interested in. It was almost enough to distract from the disturbing comment.)

They ended the day in Logan’s home, sprawled on his couch with the first movie Logan could find popped in (Winnie the Pooh, of all things). Patton pressed up against Logan’s side, eyes fixated curiously on the screen. Logan’s own gaze, however, tailed to the fae curled up next to him. He looked so soft this way, his bony angles and sharp ears offset by his rounded features and curls. Even his eyes seemed less like sunfire, and more like cool honey. Logan found himself wanting to kiss him. He wanted to kiss him and pull him off the couch into his room and push him down onto the bed and-

Logan flushed and looked away from Patton, trying to direct his thoughts in a less…arousing direction.  _Just think about skin cells and aging…even though Patton’s skin looks so perfectly soft and bruisable and he can never age and- no. Bad Logan._

“What’s wrong?” Patton asked. He’d sat up at this point and was looking at Logan with concern.

“Nothing,” Logan said too quickly, glancing down and then back up. Patton saw, of course he did, and he directed his gaze down as well. A sly look developed over his features, and he placed a hand on his chest and lightly pushed him back as he slid into his lap.

“Oh? Are you sure?” He gripped Logan’s tie and tugged his head up a bit, bringing their faces close. Logan’s breath hitched, which was apparently all the sign Patton needed to crush their lips together. It was different than every other time, however. In the past, all kisses Patton pressed to his lips were fairly chaste, and if they were to the lips Patton would normally vanish soon after. This time, however, the kiss felt like it lasted so much shorter, yet an eternity longer than all the others. And when Patton pulled away, he simply grinned that too-wide grin and stole another kiss.

Logan growled and kissed back this time, finally getting over the shock and pushing Patton back. The fae complied, moving his lips against Logan’s, but otherwise letting him take control. Logan liked being in control.

Logan pulled away, breathing hard. Patton regarded him with a smile, holding out his arms. Logan got the hint, sliding his hands under Patton’s thighs and lifting him up so he could coil his arms around Logan’s neck and wrap his legs around his middle. Logan pressed kisses down Patton’s neck, relishing the quick little sounds that escaped him. He wasn’t sure if they were genuine, and he hardly cared at that point. He simply stumbled to his room, pushing open the door and closing it by pressing Patton’s back up against it. He continued down his neck, pulling off his new cat hoodie and the polo shirt so he could bite and suck marks along his collarbone. He was actually slightly surprised that Patton did in fact bruise, though the marks weren’t dark purple- but pale yellow-gold. Hardly visible under his pale skin.

Patton yanked on his hair, making him gasp sharply, and his lips were on Logan’s once more. Needle teeth nipped at his bottom lip again, and Logan let him lap the blood from it before he tugged him away from the door and stumbled to the bed. Patton fell backwards onto it and Logan crawled over him, pulling away from the kiss to attack his neck again. Patton stopped him with a gentle hand on his chest. Seven fingers splayed against his rapid heartbeat.

“Logan,” his voice was hoarse, and his eyes half-lidded with need.”If we’re going to do this…I’ll need to trust you completely.” He kissed Logan again briefly. “And in order for me to trust you completely, you’ll need to prove you trust  _me_ completely first.”

Logan paused to think a moment, which was hard. His mind was foggy with lust (which was not helped as Patton leaned up and slowly licked the blood that had dripped to his chin up back to the origin of his bottom lip), and Logan found himself thinking that surely- surely he’d known Patton long enough to trust him.

He didn’t think about what Patton was or what he could do and what he had done, he simply dipped down a whispered the words into Patton’s pointed ear. Patton’s grin grew wide- wider than Logan had ever seen, and his pupils dilated until only a thin ring showed he had irisies at all. He pulled Logan into another deep kiss, and when they parted a moment, Patton spoke.

“That’s perfect, you’re perfect. Come now, you humans wear too many clothes.”

-

Logan woke the next morning as early morning light trailed in golds and soft oranges. He blinked a few times, still feeling tired, but he imagined Patton was even moreso. Speaking of, the fae was pressed up to his chest, copper curls turning to fire in the early sun. Logan buried his face into those curls and breathed deeply, pulling Patton closer. He knew he’d probably never see him again after today, and while that would be for the best, he still felt a deep sadness like a hollow pit in his stomach.

_“Logan.”_

Logan blinked, looking to see if Patton had spoken. He appeared to still be asleep (though he wasn’t sure fae needed to sleep).

_“Logan, Patton.”_

Logan frowned, brow furrowing, “Who’s there?”

“Helwood,” It was Patton’s voice. It sounded light as air, not even scratchy or hoarse despite last night’s activities. “She’s calling us.”

“Why not just you?” Logan asked. Patton turned in his arms to face him. His eyes shone even in the dim light.

“She likes you. Please, come back to her with me,” Patton said, more a firm demand than a question.

“I can’t…but I’ll walk with you to her when you depart. Would you like to do so now?”

The brightness of Patton’s eyes was gone. He sat up and slid from the bed, sighing and staring into the mirror across from the bed.

“Fine,” he held out an arm, and Logan watched as feathers rather grotesque appeared under the skin before breaking through with a sound like wet paper being torn. Patton shook his arm to help them settle, then did the same to the other arm. He brushed his hands over his sides and hips, recreating the feathers on his side and skirt. He still picked up his glasses and his cat hoodie.

“I’m keeping these,” he informed Logan, tying the hoodie around his neck and setting the glasses on his nose.

“Okay,” Logan said, sliding on his own glasses and getting from bed to pull on some clothes. He looked up, and Patton was gone- probably already in the car. Logan tried to swallow the dread that settled in the back of his throat.

The car ride to the gate was dead silent. Logan kept his eyes firmly on the road, and Patton refused to look at anything other than Logan. His gaze was calculating and thoughtful, and when Logan glanced at him momentarily, it felt like looking into a mirror.

They reached the end of the road and Logan parked, pocketing his keys and helping Patton out. He was walking better than Logan would have expected, but he still took Logan’s hand as they walked to the gate. Logan looked around, but they had been lucky enough to arrive during the short window between guards shifts. He used a paperclip to pick the lock again, faster this time now that he had some experience. It swung open, and Logan had to blink back tears.

“I guess _this_  is goodbye…” Logan murmured. Patton looked at him like he was the stupidest man alive.

“No. Come to Helwood’s edge with me.”

“Patton I-”

“Not forever, ya dumb dumb,” Patton flicked his nose. “Just so you can properly see me off. Logan sighed and found himself nodding. It wasn’t much more time to spend with him, but he found himself wanting to prolong the goodbyes as long as possible.

Helwood quivered excitedly as the two approached, though Logan heard no words like he had this morning. Patton faced him, taking his hands, and Logan ignored what felt like five sets of eyes burning into his skin.

“Well…I guess this is our goodbye then?” Logan asked. Patton sighed and looked at the forest before glancing back at Logan.

“Why won’t you come with me again?” Patton asked, squeezing Logan’s hands. He worried they’d end up crushed and mangled like the poor dream apples. “We can dance for years without wasting time, we can taste one another's’ lips and play among Helwood’s endless beauty. You wouldn’t have to ever feel stressed, or tired, or sad again!” Logan avoided his eyes.

“I’ll miss my friends…and my home…and my job,” Logan said, though something was stirring in him. A sort of desire because that…that did sound nice.

“Please, Logan,” Patton cooed, standing on tippy toes and moving on hand to grab his chin and force him to meet his eyes. “Your job may be fun, but so is chasing deer and playing in creeks and singing with the wind. Your friends? I like them…and maybe we can come back for them if you find you truly miss them. As for your home, well- aren’t you humans always saying ‘home is where the heart is’?” Patton pressed a light kiss to Logan’s lips.

“I…” Logan swallowed. “I think I need time. I need time to think about all of this, Patton. This is- this is a big life decision I can’t just make it now.”

Patton pulled his hands away from Logan, untying his cat hoodie in order to reach into the pocket. And from that pocket he pulled an apple- an apple the color of the sun…the color of Patton’s freckles and eyes.

“Come with me,” Patton insisted, holding it out in a tempting offer. Logan felt like Eve being tempted by the devil, and he took a step back so he wouldn’t take him up on an offer so appealing. His heartbeat was a rapid feeling in his throat. Patton sighed and closed his eyes.

_“Logan Thomas Sanders,”_  his eyes opened, and they were inky black. Not even the white remained. It reminded Logan of his dream, but it was the name that caused him to snap to attention. He focused on Patton, who smiled far, far too wide. “Come with me.” He held out the fruit for Logan to take.

And so he did.


End file.
